Embrace What Comes
by Pyrasaur
Summary: If he gets enough hugs from his loved ones, Sans might just figure out this happiness thing.


It had been a few dozen resets since Sans had hugged anyone but Papyrus. Good old Papyrus. Lifting Sans off his feet and yelling gleeful in his ear, pouring golden-bright love out through his magic. Some days, some timelines, those hugs were the only thing filling Sans back up.

It was worth the wait to meet Toriel, though: after some bad laughs and some phone-stealing, she looked at Sans with laughter in her eyes and gave him the first of many hugs. Fantastic hugs, too — she'd kneel down to his height and just engulf him in an embrace like a freshly made bed, with her large-bodied softness and fondness shining cozy through her magic. It made Sans squirm but in a good way. He tried to shine back for her, with his cooler type of joy; Toriel seemed like she'd been banking these up for a long time and after everything that happened, Sans never wanted a happy moment to end — never again.

Unlike Papyrus, Toriel wasn't easily distracted. It was a good thing greeting hugs didn't have a time limit.  
"I am sorry, Sans," she murmured against his skull one day, kneeling wrapped around him in her foyer.  
"Hmm? What for?" He was buried in her warmth and couldn't think of anything wrong in the world.  
"For taking so long to say hello."  
"That's nothin' to apologize for. Be Toriel, not _sorry_ -el."  
Her laugh hummed all around him and through his bones. "If we stand here too long, I might become a _bore_ -iel!"  
"Not a bit. But, I mean, we could put on a movie or something."  
The hug ended then, Toriel's arms unwinding from around him. He was nearly disappointed until Toriel's hands came to rest on his shoulders, her eyes locked hopeful with his.  
"Could we?"

She didn't have to ask twice. Greetings moved to the living room, where Toriel sat on the couch with a huge, demure smile and invited him into her arms. They enjoyed human entertainment sometimes — light-hearted anime borrowed from Alphys, and movies bought secondhand by the bagful, and Toriel's growing collection of orchestral music.  
And when those didn't hold their attention, Sans and Toriel just shot the breeze. Talked about getting new licences and degrees, and talked about Frisk's progress in school and Papyrus's favourite type of pie, and through it all the new puns flowed. It was all set to her magic's pleased radiance and her laughter and the white noise of Sans's bones against her dress. He found his own chuckles coming easier. Sometimes he wondered if this was really all one hug, a state so natural to Toriel that it just flowed endless from her and had to be broken up into episodes. Tune in tomorrow for more.

One early afternoon, the movie's soundtrack was all soft piano and Toriel didn't have much to say. It was just buttery quiet, the even pulse of her magic in Sans's ear and her body heat soaking into him. He must have started nodding off — because he didn't notice they had company until Papyrus whipped into the living room and his expression blew wide open.  
"OH NO! I HAVE INTERRUPTED A DATE!"  
Sans rubbed his eyesocket. "Bro."  
"THE MOOD HAS BEEN DESTROYED! CRUSHED BY MY GREATNESS! TORN ASUNDER BY MY OWNERSHIP OF A SPARE KEY!"  
" _Bro._ "  
"Papyrus, dear," Toriel began in her motherly voice — but Papyrus was gone, cape whipping away red around the corner and his wailing voice fading down the hall and out the front door.  
The quiet hung. Sans sighed. What a guy, his brother.  
"Goodness," Toriel murmured. She shifted forward like the first traces of standing up. "Should we go console him?"  
"Nah, he'll be fine in a few minutes. The thought of dates just makes him act like a real /fruit/cake sometimes."  
She hummed uncertain, but settled back against the couch cushions and rearranged her arm around Sans's shoulders. He didn't have to get up; that was, as always, a magnificent feeling.  
"A date?" Toriel asked. "Is that what we have been doing?"  
"I dunno. I do put my head on your lady pillows an awful lot." Sans was snuggled face-first into one at that very moment. Super comfy spot.  
Clucking her tongue, Toriel squeezed him. "That part of me is not just for romantic acts. So long as the person touching me is one I care about and trust, then honestly, you are welcome to rest your head, my friend."  
Sans grinned wider: he couldn't resist. "Am I your … _breast_ friend?"  
She shook, a laugh stuck in her throat.  
"Aw, geez," he quipped, "I'm making a _boob_ of myself."  
"Not at all, Sans," Toriel laughed. She rubbed his skull like the world's gentlest noogie. "We are … _bosom_ companions."  
Abruptly, her laugh drained away. She dug in the couch cushions for the remote, and started the movie's bonus features. She always liked those but as the director talked and talked, she felt off. Less vividness in her magic aura. Worried, maybe.  
"Something up?" Sans asked. He turned a look up at her.  
Toriel watched the TV, fixed but unseeing. She pressed her lips and asked haltingly, each word a careful pace: "I was just thinking about the, well, the thought of us dating … Do you ever think of me that way?"  
Sans paled. He should have expected to get clotheslined by this, sooner or later.  
"I mean what I said," Toriel went on in an even murmur, "that I am happy to hold you as a trusted friend. But I do wonder."  
"Look, Tori, I don't really … take relationships into serious territory. It's not how I am."  
"Skeleton ways?"  
"That, too." He'd never been able to draw a clean line between his own inclinations and the stark fact that he was made of bones and ectoplasm. It wasn't important. Sans hurried to add, "But hey, don't get me wrong — I've cared about you since you were just a voice behind a door. What the two of us are doin' right now is making me plenty happy. I mean, your hugs are serious quality. Makes me wonder if you're really a squid."  
"I'm … what?"  
"A squid." He winked up at her. "Or maybe a _cuddle_ fish."  
Her face crumpled gleeful and her laugh rose like a gale, that gasping howl that meant he'd caught her off guard. And there was the toasty fond feeling in her magic, warming the both of them back up.  
The movie special features were still going. Production people were milling around the actors, touching up their hair and makeup.  
"Hey," Sans said, lifting an elbow to nudge her ribs, "Your turn to _fish_ up some honesty. Do you think of me as more than a friend?"  
"Sometimes," she murmured, "yes."  
Sans's eye sockets widened. "Seriously?" He grabbed another glance at her.  
In the white light of the TV screen, feeling her wavering but warm magic, Sans watched a wan smile pull over her fangs. Toriel watched the screen with hooded but bright eyes. "It has been a long time," she said, "since I have felt so content around someone. I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable, dear."  
Sans tried to think about it, and found that he didn't need to. "Nah, doesn't bother me. Is that what the forehead kiss was for? The other day?"  
"Somewhat …" Her magic faltered again, like flinching away from these confessions.  
Sans shrugged. He was still relaxed somehow, still comfortable after rejecting her and leaving his face smushed into her body; Toriel was someone who filled him back up and he tried to share his sense of the truth, tried to shove it out past his cagey bones.  
"Keep up the smooches, if you want," he told her. "It's, uh. It's kinda nice."  
"I am happy to know that," Toriel murmured.  
"Seriously, though, a babe like you thinking about a guy like me?" He grinned wider. "Score."  
"Oh, stop!" she laughed. Her free paw batted Sans's shoulder.  
"I mean it, Tori. A cuddlefish like you is a real _catch_."  
She laughed for him, and placed a brightly warm kiss on the top of his skull, and reached again for the remote. "I did not _catch_ half of that movie. Shall we watch it again, or try another?"  
Frankly, Sans was in favour of any option that didn't involve crossing the room to change a DVD. "Play it again, Tori. I think I can improve on my pun game this time around."

This time, when the front door opened, Sans and Toriel both turned their attention to it.  
"SANS?" came a familiar yell. "MISS TORIEL? THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD LIKE TO OFFER AN APOLOGY FOR INTERRUPTING YOUR DATE!"  
"It's okay, bro," Sans called. "It's not a date."  
"Perhaps it is a friends' date?" Toriel added.  
"Yeah, sure. That. It's a friendly, chill friends' date."  
Papyrus peeked around the door frame at them. "THEN, I DID NOT RUIN THE MOOD?"  
"Hang on, let's find out." Sans took Toriel's hand and aimed a meaningful look up at her. "Tori? Give it to me straight. Are the two of us still friends?"  
She completely failed to stifle her smile. "We are, Sans. Despite the interruption, I still find your company … _pal_ atable."  
"Isn't she the _best_ , Pap?"  
Papyrus squinted thoughtful. "I HAVE TO ADMIT, THAT PUN WAS CLEVER."  
"You flatterers." Toriel shone warmer than ever with joy; she lifted her free arm in an invitation Sans knew well. "Would you like to join us for the rest of this movie, Papyrus? I believe we have room for one more hug participant."  
He lit up even while he eyed Toriel's raised, inviting arm. "A … THREE-WAY FRIEND DATE? FOR THREE PEOPLE?! I-It is rather sudden, but … I GRACIOUSLY ACCEPT! ALTHOUGH, I MUST WARN YOU, MISS TORIEL, THAT MY CHARMS CAN BE COMPLETELY DEVASTATING."  
"I am prepared to face that risk, dear."

Once Papyrus sat down, Toriel tucked him tight against her side. Wide-eyed Papyrus squirmed, arranging his mile-long legs, probably wishing he could check his dating manual while he tentatively laid an arm over Toriel's stomach. It was a sight to keep Sans smiling for days.  
"Oh my god," Papyrus said, leaning onto Toriel's shoulder, "MISS TORIEL, YOU ARE VERY SOFT AND THIS IS AN EXCELLENT HUG."  
She giggled, the sound humming through her. "Thank you, dear."  
"Hey," Sans said, "I'm almost in on it, too. Stretch a bit more, will ya?"  
"OF COURSE, SANS! I WOULD NEVER LEAVE OUT MY FAVOURITE BROTHER!"  
Papyrus's arm loomed again, settling a gloved hand on Sans's shoulder, tucking alongside Toriel's much bigger strong arm. Two people's magic poured over Sans, two distinct kinds of sun-bright love and he might manage to be that contented someday, too.  
"There we are," Toriel said in her velvety-kind voice. "Perfect."  
Sans couldn't agree more.


End file.
